


Blood

by Reaping



Series: Writoween 2015 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood, Implied Violence, Multi, past malia/stiles, post season 5a, that last one is super vague, vague spoilers through season 5A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reaping/pseuds/Reaping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writoween Day 1 Prompt: Blood<br/>All that remained was a puddle of blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood

**Author's Note:**

> If I missed a tag or you feel I need a tag that isn't here, just comment me!
> 
> There will (hopefully) be 31 of these by the time Halloween rolls around. I got a late start but I'm giving this Writoween a go. Comments and/or constructive criticism are much appreciated. Find me on [Tumblr](http://jennthereaper.tumblr.com)!

                “Get him back,” the words barely audible, growling their way out of Derek’s mouth. It had been five days of tracking and they were still nowhere. The pack had been searching all of Beacon Hills but there was no trace of Stiles, save for the large pool of blood in the old train station that Derek had once lived in. They had no idea what Stiles had been doing there, or what had happened to him. There was no lingering smell of death, the only thing they had to offer any kind of hope that they could find him. With each day that passed, Derek had regressed further away from humanity – his eyes had been glowing a steady blue for the last two, fangs and claws expanding and retracting for all of today. Scott stared at him, eyes filled with empathy – of everyone in the pack, Stiles meant the most to the two of them.

                “Derek, we’ve been everywhere, there is no scent to follow,” it was Malia who spoke, voice sharp in the quiet of the loft. Her nose was the best, she’d been hunting nearly every hour of every day, but Stiles’ scent trail didn’t go anywhere. Sure, there were traces all over town, but they were old, lingering. The freshest scent, aside from his home and the loft, was in the station – but there was nothing indicating how he’d even gotten there. No scents around the ways in or out. She’d explained it to him – hell he’d gone and smelled for himself – but it didn’t seem to matter. He was beyond the point of reason. She understood. She’d loved Stiles once too.

                “Maybe we can ask Deaton if he knows a spell or something? Isn’t he, like, some sort of magic Druid?” Kira was less hesitant now than she used to be, but everything she said still sounded like a question to most of the pack. She seemed to still be trying to find her place among them, never sure if her thoughts were welcome. She glanced around nervously at the tense group. Everyone was there – all the remaining members of the pack anyhow. Liam and Mason, new but willing to help, especially after the incident with Theo. Parrish, subdued ever since his true nature had been revealed – never willing to do more than was asked of him, and worried even then that something would happen and it would be his fault. And, of course, Lydia.

                “Anything?” Scott turned to her now, fear making his heart pound faster. If Stiles was gone, she’d be the one to know. Lydia tilted her chin up, watery blue eyes meeting Scott’s, before shaking her head in the negative. She hadn’t slept in days – terrified that she’d suddenly feel the urge to scream for Stiles. She hadn’t yet, but that wasn’t a guarantee – there was so much blood she didn’t see how he could still be alive after all. She saw Derek relax minutely when she shook her head, heard the huff of his breath before he turned on his heel, mumbling that he was going to look again. Scott reached out after him, fingertips grazing his arm before Derek yanked it roughly away. “Derek stop. We need to come up with a better plan than just running ourselves ragged all over town.” The former alpha turned towards Scott, lips curled in a sneer.

                “Oh do we Scott. _We_ need to come up with a plan. It’s good to know you’re so concerned about _we_ now .” Scott recoiled at the venom in Derek’s voice – he hadn’t heard the man like that in a long time. After everything they’d been through together he thought they were finally past that. Before he could so much as start to ask what was going on, Derek interrupted, saving him the trouble. “Where was your precious _we_ when Stiles came to you for help? Where was it when you believed Theo – someone you hadn’t seen for years – over Stiles? Did you think he didn’t tell me about that – that we weren’t talking. WHERE WAS YOUR _WE_ WHEN STILES NEEDED YOU SCOTT?” The last came out as a near roar. Scott was left gaping, words completely failing him, as Derek spun on his heel and stormed out of the loft, steel door slamming behind him.

                “He’s right…this is my fault…he’s right,” Scott’s legs crumpled beneath him, collapsing him to the floor. He buried his face in his hands, tears burning his eyes and guilt eating away at him. Stiles was gone, disappeared when they weren’t speaking. Derek had finally come back from his hunt for the Desert Wolf to discover a pack in ruins – everyone mistrustful, relationships on the verge of cracking, some of them broken even. Scott hadn’t spoken to Stiles in over a week, and when Derek found out and went looking for him, all he found was a day old scent and a puddle of blood.


End file.
